


Rhys Sucks at Flirting

by space_kid (orphan_account)



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Atlas CEO Rhys, Flirting, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-10-28 10:21:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20776970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/space_kid
Summary: He really does!





	Rhys Sucks at Flirting

**Author's Note:**

> i dont knoow

Okay, Rhys had absolutely no fucking clue as to why the Hyperion CEO was staring at him.

He even plucked a mirror out of his pocket and checked his teeth for anything, but there was nothing out of place. Rhys thought back to this morning, maybe he had a booger in his nose? Was his expression pinched in an unappealing or even distracting way? Was it his hair? The tie? Rhys pondered all possible options and all the while Handsome fucking Jack was still staring at him and paying absolutely no attention to the board meeting that was supposed to be discussing financial benefits of designing some sort of new product. Rhys would know except the staring had caused him to lose any semblance of interest in the topic; he tried his damnedest not to look back at Handsome Jack because that's what he was told to do by many who have crossed the man's path.

Rhys had heard all the ghost stories that followed the infamous Handsome Jack and his larger than life company. Sometimes the corpses floated in the way of Atlas satellites and Rhys had to phone maintenance. Atlas was still a rising company and Rhys knew he had a long way to go before he had anything even close to respect from his competition, but he pretty much accepted the fact that Handsome Jack would always be a douche to him, whether or not Atlas had their heel in Hyperion's neck. He was a man who cared only for himself and was willing to eradicate planets to get what he wanted. The force of Handsome Jack was one that Rhys had never personally encountered until today, in this moment.

But this moment didn't feel overwhelming in the sense that Rhys felt like he was in danger. Mostly, he was just confused as fuck.

It would've been one thing if Jack had any sort of expression on his face indicating just what he thought of Rhys. But in the millisecond that Rhys looked back, when he first noticed the staring, he found absolutely nothing there. It was haunting.

There was no blood lust or regular lust or even any kind of boredom or joy, it was absolutely blank. But Jack was clearly staring at him and not through him; when Rhys scooted his chair closer to the table, Jack's eyes followed his head. Handsome Jack had a major staring problem, and Rhys wasn't sure how much more he could take.

"-thank you all for joining us. We hope to hear back soon."

Suddenly, the room swayed with movement and Rhys was broken from the spell Jack cast upon him. He pushed his chair back and looked at his ECHOnet to see where he as going to go next for the day and how quickly he could escape Jack's eyes. Soft murmuring was lost to Rhys' ECHOnet as he flipped through his schedule until he felt, again, someone staring.

The room was now empty but in his mindless scrolling, Rhys had failed to notice. And of course, because his luck is just that bad, the only other soul in the room was Handsome Jack, leaned back against the conference table with his arms crossed looking smug as hell. Rhys felt the hairs on his neck rise.

"You've been looking nervous all day, Atlas. Don't you got somewhere to be?" Jack asked him.

Rhys fidgeted in place as he put his ECHO away and tried to think of something that wouldn't make the Hyperion CEO think he was dumber than he probably already thought. "I'm in no rush. I've had such a chaotic day that taking a second to relax seemed like a good idea to me."

"Ah, the youth," Jack said wistfully with his eyes now trained to the ceiling, "thinking that 'taking a break' while in the midst of a corporate dick measuring contest is a good idea."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Jack smirked back at Rhys with a pitying look in his eye. "It means that you're clearly showing your age, Atlas. The grownups have actual work to do so why don't you hurry along to your big, bad company so we can actually make some deals, okay? The big dogs don't take too kindly to yapping pups who just want to stick their insignificant noses where they don't belong."

Rhys rolled his eyes. 

"You know, I remember when these new CEOs with their big ideas would come here and just beg for me to look at their products once. Everyone wants a piece of the Handsome Jack pie, it honestly gets tiring dealing with all these fans."

Rhys fumed at the man and decided that given the opportunity, he was bludgeon Handsome Jack to death gladly.

"When I heard that the new head hancho at Atlas was some twinky cyborg, you know I just had to check you out pumpkin. And while twinky might be off, that robo arm of yours must get all the girls wet. How much did it cost, all your mommy and daddy's savings? I could build ten of those things and it'd only be pocket change."

It was getting harder and harder to hold his tongue, but Rhys held strong; Jack was just playing with the fresh meat, this was his initiation into the world of business. And while the comments were vulgar, Rhys honestly expected as much. Handsome Jack had a long list of past flings, or so he heard. He just had to wait out Jack's verbal assault and then he'd be free.

And all the while Jack was still fucking talking. "You'll come to realize that all these plebeians worship the ground I fucking walk on, so I'm excited to see that pretty face get all doe eyed as I walk past you, maybe spit on you if you beg for it." Jack chuckled. "Some people here would kill for me to look at them so don't think I spit on everyone who asked. But I bet you'd beg pretty." Another chuckle. "Wanna find out, kiddo?"

Rhys had had enough. He went through this before, this humiliation from those bigger than him, but he wasn't some delivery boy or a wayward engineer; he was the fucking CEO of Atlas for Christ's sake! For the good of the company, the one he built with help from no one, he had to defend himself. Rhys knew that if he didn't stand up now, Handsome Jack would never take him seriously.

Jack was still sitting on his ass, still staring at him, still smirking. Rhys felt anger boiling within himself and thought of all the horror stories that came with Handsome Jack; how he tore people apart, kept eyeballs as souvenirs, paid spies to tear apart his competition from the inside out. All the dead employees, sketchy business deals, riches upon riches upon riches. Rhys' hands clenched in anger as he stalked up to Jack.

"Look," Rhys hissed while staring right back at Jack, "I don't know what your fucking problem is with me, but whatever it is, it's not my concern. I'm not here to play into you and your company's little pissing games, I'm here to make Atlas the best it can be so don't try to drag me into your politics. I'm not interested in whatever you're trying to do so try it somewhere else. Atlas doesn't play by your shitty rules, and I'm not going to let my company fail just before you get off on tearing people down. I'm not a toy for you to amuse yourself with or your punchline. But do you know what I am?"

"What are you, cupcake?" Jack answered.

Rhys stuck a metal finger in his face. "I'm your _competition_, you dickwad."

In his mind, Rhys was shitting himself whilst lighting himself on fire. This weird intimidation tactic that he was trying out was not what he expected from himself but in the heat of the moment it was all he could think to do. Rhys didn't take too kindly to those who wanted to step all over him and pity him. He worked hard to get where he was and sacrificed too much to have someone think they could baby him. Atlas was built on Rhys' blood, sweat, and tears. No one, not even Handsome Jack, was going to take away his life's work. Even if it killed him, which it probably would.

Jack's eyes widened a fraction and Rhys waited for the life to be choked out of him. The silence between the two was bordering on uncomfortable and just when Rhys was about to pull his finger back and excuse himself to scream his fury out in the bathroom, Jack's hand shot out and gripped him by the tie, yanking him in closer. 

"You might just make it, kiddo," Jack whispered against his ear, and then he was kissing him.

To say Rhys was shocked stupid would be the underestimate of the century. His eyes widened comically as Jack kissed the life out of him. It wasn't gentle by any means but it wasn't aggressive either; as much as Rhys couldn't believe this was happening to him, he knew it was and a part even knew that Jack wasn't playing a game this time around. The mashing of lips in an empty conference room between rival CEOs had Rhys' head spinning. 

He wasn't even sure if he was kissing back, or if he should. The moment was so fleeting that when Jack broke away, Rhys had to bite his cheek to make sure he wasn't in some coma or dreaming like a teenager. Jack's eyes were almost soft as they roamed over Rhys' blushing cheeks, dropped jaw, red lips and mussed hair; Rhys couldn't form a sentence if his life depended on it which it may very well be, and Jack slowly smiled.

"There might be some hope for you, after all," he muttered before letting Rhys' tie go and standing up from the conference table. "You know what? I like you, kiddo. You aren't one of those suck ups and you got a pretty face. Let's keep this moment in mind the next time conversations come up between us. I'd hate to have to blow that pretty head clean off your neck but business is business after all. And you _are_ my competition."

Jack winked at him and slipped out the conference room, leaving Rhys to wonder what the actual fuck was going on. A nervous hand slowly brushed against his lips and as he tasted the remnants of smoke, Rhys let out the scream that had been building up within himself. 

What the hell had he gotten himself into, messing around with Handsome Jack? What was he thinking? He didn't want to have this kind of history, one that could be used against him if it fell into the wrong hands which as far as Rhys was concerned, was every pair of hands. This was not part of the plan. Rhys couldn't even remember his plan at this point. He was operating without a map, blindly. Whatever business tactic Jack was using, Rhys decided, he wanted no part of.

"Fucking Hyperion," he muttered, and walked out the conference room to his next destination for the day, trying to ignore the blush in his cheeks and hope in his heart.


End file.
